


I got lipstick stamps on my passport

by DarkShadeless



Series: Talk dirty to me [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Lana is a saint, M/M, Sith being very Sith, Sith flirting, Sith friends, Sith!Theron, crushes crushes all around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24823738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShadeless/pseuds/DarkShadeless
Summary: In which Theron is very put out at how unlucky in love he is. Lana just wishes he would stop hitting on her co-workers.
Relationships: Lana Beniko/Male Sith Warrior, Theron Shan/Male Sith Warrior
Series: Talk dirty to me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1795516
Comments: 17
Kudos: 46





	I got lipstick stamps on my passport

**Author's Note:**

> Lana and Theron have known each other for a _long_ time in this AU. Their relationship turned out very sibling-like, for a Sith measure of siblings. Funny that.  
> Enjoy ;)

When the door to her office slides open, Lana doesn’t even bother looking up. There’s exactly one person who would barge in on her without knocking. By now she could identify Theron’s particular brand of restless aggravation with her eyes closed.

She isn’t going to dignify his dramatics. Attention only ever makes him worse. Already his Force-presence is tinged with licks of emotion too intense and short-lived to properly identify. Fury, petulance, envy, hurt… they cycle so quickly it’s dizzying.

It’s going to be one of those days again, isn’t it?

It is. If there was any doubt it would have dispersed under the weight of Theron throwing himself into the visitors chair and collapsing onto her desk in one fluid move. The only things that allow her to save her filing system are years of experience with this particular brand of entrance and a knack for levitating multiple objects simultaneously. “Theron! Don’t _do_ that!”

As if complaining has ever stopped him. Lana really should start pulling out the hard stops.

The damning knowledge that she has been telling herself this for ages and has yet to pull through and technically all of this is her own fault is her only hollow comfort as she dumps her data cards on the floor in neat piles and resigns herself to her fate. The things she puts up with for her friends.

Lana has few enough of them, friends. She has colleagues, acquaintances, contacts and underlings by the legion but friends? No, not many.

Theron Shan is undeniably one of them.

They have known each other since they were both still acolytes, fighting tooth and nail to get their chance to make it past that. For a while there they had almost been arranged to be married. With how much the social circle they both run in has thinned out over the years it was only to be expected their families would lie in wait for a suitable match like a nexu on the prowl.

Thankfully they had both bagged a lordship before anything came of that. Lana doesn’t have a shred of doubt she would have buried this idiot by now if she had to call him her husband.

Under her burning glare, Theron seems to sink into her desk even more, taking up as much space as physically possible. “Lanaaaaaa…”

“ _What_?” Seriously, if this is about Sar again she will-

“Why doesn’t he like me?”

She will kill Theron. She will gut him, string him up with his own intestines and use him for a bloody example to anyone who interrupts her _office hours_ with _fierfek_ -

Theron turns imploring nerf-calf eyes on her and Lana’s irritation sputters into a hiccup that is nothing short of embarrassing. With the pinpoint accuracy of a Sith sensing weakness, Theron looks at her more fully, hangdog expression in perfect view and her heart turns over in her chest by the slightest degree. She will _murder him_. “What did you do now?”

“Nothing!” Not bloody likely. He knows it too but he doesn’t quite manage to nail the recovery. “I was just… talking. To him. We were just talking!”

“Of course you were.” Lana doesn’t even have to put any effort into it and still disbelief drips from every syllable. There’s a headache sparking right behind her eyes and it hasn’t even been five minutes. “Tell me you didn’t bait him. _Again_.”

He doesn’t quite manage to suppress a wince at her growl.

‘ _By the screaming Void, I swear…’_

The massive torch Theron carries for agent Yon Sar is really starting to become a problem. From the moment he got a proper look at her co-conspirator he has been hitting on him as if it’s Huttball season and Yon is the only player on the other team.

Lana gets it. She _does_.

She has been working with Yon since the whole Revanite debacle, on and off, and he is… he is…

He is dangerous, is the thing.

Yon plays a good game, comes across just like every other Republic agent she has ever met, steadfast and true, just a bit goofy when he wants to be. He's not too inflexible to be decent company, which is rarer, and after what they went through together and the trust they built between them he is someone Lana would call a friend, even, but… he only _really_ comes out to play when the going gets tough.

When the mission gets rocky, or he thinks no one will see, that’s when you might look over your shoulder and catch a carnivore looking back from behind Yon’s eyes. Something cold-blooded, with scales and _teeth_.

Yon isn’t as easy-going as he likes people to believe. There’s a predator living in his skin and Lana knows just how it feels to realize that, to expect a tame beast with a soft mouth, someone you'll trick if needs must, and then to meet his eyes and think, ‘ _Oh. Oh my, you would step over my corpse, wouldn’t you? And you’d be the one to put me on the ground too.’_

Theron wasn’t the only one who tripped over that revelation and fell face first into the inevitable follow up of, _‘Oh, aren’t you beautiful._ ’

Lana can appreciate that danger, the kind that is shot through with loyalty and purpose until they’re inseparable. It breeds such _strength_.

When she called Yon in to help her build the Alliance and steal themselves their commander back she knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do to see them through. Nothing. If he had to sacrifice her… well. He wouldn’t _like_ it. It wasn’t ever going to be his first resort. But if it came to that, in the end?

They will succeed. They have to. And if she dies, one way or another, Yon is the man Lana is counting on to hold the Alliance together long enough to tank Zakuul. Raan is an excellent commander, there's a reason they've put all their hopes in him, but he is too honest, too bright, too much of a Jedi the way only the best of them are. He needs a knife in the dark. Yon can be that for him, just like she is.

They have always understood each other, in that way, and this understanding has been the basis of years of mutually beneficial arrangements but Lana can respect that Yon doesn't want the galaxy at large to look past his masks, as she has. She also knows when to kriffing keep it in her pants _unlike some people_.

Theron reinforces her mental point and redoubles her headache with a pained groan. “He’s so _hot_.”

Bloody Force. She’s going to need a drink after this. “He’s going to _stab you_.” Lana only wishes she were kidding. At the rate Theron is going someone is going to die and their body will never be found. Her money isn’t on him in that race. She doesn’t go for sucker bets.

But she saves her breath. He never did know when to quit.

With the abject dejection of the truly hopeless, and children who grew up starved for attention by their absentee parents, Theron mutters under his breath, “… I kind of wish he would.”

Oh, Lana better _not_ have heard that right.


End file.
